HomeCharles DickensOur Mutual Friend

Our Mutual Friend. Charles Dickens

With the same air of a recluse much given to study, he desisted from his books to bestow a distrustful nod of recognition upon Gaffer, plainly importing, ′Ah! we know all about YOU, and you′ll overdo it some day;′ and to inform Mr Mortimer Lightwood and friends, that he would attend them immediately. Then, he finished ruling the work he had in hand (it might have been illuminating a missal, he was so calm), in a very neat and methodical manner, showing not the slightest consciousness of the woman who was banging herself with increased violence, and shrieking most terrifically for some other woman′s liver.

′A bull′s-eye,′ said the Night-Inspector, taking up his keys. Which a deferential satellite produced. ′Now, gentlemen.′

With one of his keys, he opened a cool grot at the end of the yard, and they all went in. They quickly came out again, no one speaking but Eugene: who remarked to Mortimer, in a whisper, ′Not MUCH worse than Lady Tippins.′

So, back to the whitewashed library of the monastery—with that liver still in shrieking requisition, as it had been loudly, while they looked at the silent sight they came to see—and there through the merits of the case as summed up by the Abbot. No clue to how body came into river. Very often was no clue. Too late to know for certain, whether injuries received before or after death; one excellent surgical opinion said, before; other excellent surgical opinion said, after. Steward of ship in which gentleman came home passenger, had been round to view, and could swear to identity. Likewise could swear to clothes. And then, you see, you had the papers, too. How was it he had totally disappeared on leaving ship, ′till found in river? Well! Probably had been upon some little game. Probably thought it a harmless game, wasn′t up to things, and it turned out a fatal game. Inquest to-morrow, and no doubt open verdict.

′It appears to have knocked your friend over—knocked him completely off his legs,′ Mr Inspector remarked, when he had finished his summing up. ′It has given him a bad turn to be sure!′ This was said in a very low voice, and with a searching look (not the first he had cast) at the stranger.

Mr Lightwood explained that it was no friend of his.

′Indeed?′ said Mr Inspector, with an attentive ear; ′where did you pick him up?′

Mr Lightwood explained further.

Mr Inspector had delivered his summing up, and had added these words, with his elbows leaning on his desk, and the fingers and thumb of his right hand, fitting themselves to the fingers and thumb of his left. Mr Inspector moved nothing but his eyes, as he now added, raising his voice:

′Turned you faint, sir! Seems you′re not accustomed to this kind of work?′

The stranger, who was leaning against the chimneypiece with drooping head, looked round and answered, ′No. It′s a horrible sight!′

′You expected to identify, I am told, sir?′

′Yes.′

′HAVE you identified?′

′No. It′s a horrible sight. O! a horrible, horrible sight!′

′Who did you think it might have been?′ asked Mr Inspector. ′Give us a description, sir. Perhaps we can help you.′

′No, no,′ said the stranger; ′it would be quite useless. Good-night.′

Mr Inspector had not moved, and had given no order; but, the satellite slipped his back against the wicket, and laid his left arm along the top of it, and with his right hand turned the bull′s-eye he had taken from his chief—in quite a casual manner—towards the stranger.

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